


Cold Pizza

by tomanonuniverse



Series: Fair Game Week 2020 [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Don't copy to another site, Dorks, Dorks in Love, Fair Game Week 2020, First Dates, Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, fair game, fairgameweek2020, more at 11, this just in: these two are fucking stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23184247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomanonuniverse/pseuds/tomanonuniverse
Summary: Fair Game Week 2020 Day Two: Domestic/DateNeither of them blames the other. They know their jobs come first, especially with what they know, but that didn't mean it didn't still sucked they couldn't get one day to themselves. Despite the hurt of rejection, Qrow had nodded to him and reassured him they'd figure out a plan for another day.But Clover found himself beginning to lose hope that that day would ever come. They weren't in the regular times of peace, they were in the most dangerous war Remnant will ever face, and it made sense that it was impossible to have something as simple as a date with the world falling apart around them.At least, that's what he thought, until he set foot into his own room and nearly dropped whatever the hell he was holding.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: Fair Game Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665484
Comments: 4
Kudos: 62





	Cold Pizza

**Author's Note:**

> LMAO my day one failed so spectacularly not even the FGW blog reblogged that shit but anyways here's day two; enjoy!

Clover feels like complete and utter shit. 

This is the third time he'd had to turn Qrow's invitation out down, due to his ridiculously busy schedule. He's been fucking  _ dying _ to go on a date with the Huntsman, yet everytime either of them asked the other, something would oh so conveniently come up and keep them from going out together. 

They were both Huntsmen with sworn duties to protect the people and responsibilities heavier than the sea, that being tenfold for Clover because of his position in the Atlas Military. Each time something came up, they'd both purse their lips and give each other smiles that didn't quite reach their eyes. 

Neither of them blames the other. They know their jobs come first, especially with what they know, but that didn't mean it didn't still sucked they couldn't get  _ one day  _ to themselves. Despite the hurt of rejection, Qrow had nodded to him and reassured him they'd figure out a plan for another day. 

But Clover found himself beginning to lose hope that that day would ever come. They weren't in the regular times of peace, they were in the most dangerous war Remnant will ever face, and it made sense that it was impossible to have something as simple as a date with the world falling apart around them. 

At least, that's what he thought, until he set foot into his own room and nearly dropped whatever the hell he was holding. 

“Surprise!” 

Clover blinked at the man before him, befuddlement no doubt displayed all over his face as he surveyed what were supposed to be his assigned living quarters. There were two bowls of popcorn on the coffee table, next to all the pizza boxes he does not recall ordering. In addition, there was an unopened bottle of white wine and two glasses, one of which was filled with what appeared to be apple juice, if the juice box on the surface of the trash can was any indication. 

The blankets strewn about the room were almost hazardous not only because of the candles that dimly lit the room but also because one could trip over them simply because of how much space they took. One of them was clearly Clover’s, stripped from his bed, but the other was one he did not recognize and could only assume was Qrow’s.

It only became apparent to him that Qrow was talking when he’d started stumbling nervously over his own words. “—So I just thought, if we can’t go out on a date, then we can just bring the date to us! Though, when I say it out loud…” He murmured, rubbing the back of his neck and awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to another. 

“Qrow, this is…” Clover started, for the first time in his life finding himself rendered speechless as he shuts his room’s door behind him. 

“Stupid? Yeah, I know,” the man responds ever so self-deprecatingly. “It’s really cheesy now that I think about it better. But in my defense, it seemed like a good idea at the ti—”

The rest of his sentence never leaves him as there’s suddenly a pair of lips being pressed against his. He emits a small startled noise that was definitely  _ not  _ a squeak, then relaxes into the kiss, letting his eyelids slide shut and allowing Clover to cradle his face while he wrapped his arms around the Ace Operative’s shoulders.

They did need to breathe eventually, so they parted from their liplock with great reluctance. “...You’re supposed to do the kissing at the end of the date, not the beginning,” Qrow manages to say, rather cheekily for someone who’s just been kissed quiet. Clover simply beams like a lovesick fool and slides his hands down to the other’s waist.

“Couldn’t help it,” he admits with a shrug. “This is really thoughtful of you, Qrow. Thank you.”

The Huntsman’s face burns a brighter red than his eyes ever could and he squirms out of Clover’s adoring embrace. “Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles half-heartedly, if the wide smile on his face reveals anything. “Let’s just get to it before the pizza goes cold.”


End file.
